


The Corpus Callosum Crisis

by TheMarkovProperty



Series: Stevonnie’s Bizarre Adventures [2]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Dream Combat, F/M, Math humor, Original penguin characters, Surreal humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarkovProperty/pseuds/TheMarkovProperty
Summary: Stevonnie goes to school.





	1. Troubled Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the thing I should be writing, but it is the thing I have written.
> 
> In regards to the puns, I am not sorry.

As night settled in on Beach City, Steven busied himself with bedtime preparations. Tomorrow saw an important mission to the Forbidden Islands. With such a foreboding name to contend with, he would need to be in peak mental condition, requiring the suffering of a full night’s rest. So after brushing his teeth and putting on his pajamas, he crawled into bed, set his alarm, and let his mind wander.

And wander it did, for instead of slipping into comfortable numbness of sleep, he found himself swimming through the increasingly familiar realm of the collective unconscious. But the disappointment over his poor gem-self-control soon gave way to the excitement of exploration. He may need his sleep, but, he asked, what could a few minutes possibly hurt?

He floated aimlessly for a few moments before the sounds of crashing wood caught his attention. He changed course in that direction and soon came across a small, isolated shrub suspended in the aether. With nothing else nearby, he shrugged, forced the branches aside, and pushed through, stumbling into a wooded clearing.

It was unlike any forest he’d ever seen, for the trees were a pale shade of blue and covered root to stem in a repeating, symmetric grid. Small, pink berries hung from their branches. Steven knew from experience that they were harder than rocks; several had stuck to his hands and clothes as he crawled along, and as he wiped himself off, closer inspection revealed them to be eraser caps. Along the ground grew a variety of geometric plant life – a shrub of purple rhodohedrons, patches of transparent, dandelion spheres, a vine of hydrangea hypercubes in full bloom.

Naturally, Steven didn’t pay any attention to the reality-bending flora, favoring instead a half-completed bouquet of dodecahedroses that lay discarded nearby.

“We’ll be a nice surprise!” said Steven.

He scooped it up and started filling it out with some very pleasant smelling sunflowers. At least, he assumed they were sunflowers because the great rhombihexahedron faces were, in his opinion, distinctly sun-shaped.

However, a battle cry directed his attention away from the geometric garden and toward a pair of figures locked in mortal combat.

He couldn’t make out their features through the trees, but he already knew who one of them was and rushed to her aid. After all, while these particular surroundings might be novel, it was hardly his first visit here, and the signs of her mind were all too clear.

It was in the song the wind whistled through the tessellated leaves, in the sky that bore far more stars than it should, and in the feeling of comfort stirring deep in his core. He had recognized her the moment his head parted the leaves, for he belonged here in a way no other mind could imitate. It didn’t feel like home (and sometimes he was glad for that), but it also didn’t feel like foreign territory. It was something entirely different, like a secret clubhouse the two sometimes shared: exciting, new, and brimming with possibility.

He quickly caught up to the site of the struggle, scooping up a handful of eraser chunks as he slid around a particularly large tree. He immediately tossed them at whatever stood before him and shouted, “Hey! Leave my Connie alone!”

From his perspective, he could only see the creature’s large, perfectly rectangular body. It was cardboard brown, with a pair of short, jointless legs supporting it. Two horn-like, metal rings, each as thick as Steven himself, protruded from the back of its head, wrapping across the top to the other side.

With a series of  _ thunks _ , the eraser pellets slammed into its back and fell uselessly to the floor. They didn’t even bounce off; they just fell, as if lacking any semblance of elasticity.

“Connie, your erasers kind of… suck.”

“Yeah,” she called back. Her breathing was heavy and labored, “They’re the reason I use pens, for they’ve betrayed my trust one time too many.” In her mind, if she wasn’t going to be able to erase either way, she’d rather her utensils be upfront about that fact. As long as she knew what to expect, she could plan around it.

The monster wobbled back and forth, slowly turning around to face the new challenger and granting Steven a better view.

What he had taken for the creature’s back was actually a supporting structure for a ream of paper, which was held aloft by the pair of metal, binding rings in its forehead. Eleven feet tall, eight and a half feet wide, and several feet thick, the monstrosity towered over the two teenagers and even some of the nearby trees. Connie stood on the other side of it, brandishing the dream-imitation of Rose Quartz’s grand sword, but as fierce a fighter as she was, she held little hope of besting her opponent alone.

While it rotated, Steven quietly crept around to the other side, making sure to stay behind it.

Connie suppressed a giggle and waved to him as soon as it was safe to do so. Steven smiled and waved back as he dashed to her side.

Connie grabbed his hand and together they took off into the woods, laughing excitedly.

Moments later, the ground stopped shaking, and there came a shout of, “Hey, wait a minute! Get back here you delinquents!”

When they were a ways away, the two stopped so Connie could catch her breath. Setting the sword aside, she imagined up a small, cushioned bench for them to rest on. They snuggled close together and enjoyed the shade cast by the nearby graph paper trees.

“So,” said Steven, “I guess you’re worried about that test after all.”

“I didn’t think I was,” Connie replied. “But he made some very compelling points.”

“Who?”

“The Test,” she nodded back in the direction they’d come from. “Did you know it’s worth 95% of my grade?” she cried. “I didn’t! And if I fail, I’ll have to go to summer school, and it’ll be on my Permanent Record, so I’ll never be able to get into an Harbard or Dale, and without those networking opportunities, I’ll have no chance of running in 2040!” She sighed, “I guess it’s only fair. How can I be trusted to enforce the inscrutable laws of our country if I can’t even apply the immutable principles of mathematics with consistency?”

“Hmm, maybe, but you haven’t failed yet, and you won’t tomorrow!” Steven grinned broadly, and Connie almost found herself believing him. “Besides, I thought you said it was only 25% of your grade?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I did.” She frowned, “But he just said he was worth 95% of the course’s grade. Maybe it’s worth 25% of my  _ life’s _ total score?”

“No way! You’re way more important than some dumb test! At least, to me,” he said, looking into her eyes. Both blushed, but neither looked away. “And how can a midterm count for that much if you have a final exam too?”

“You’re right!” she shouted, standing up. “I can’t believe the evil manifestation of my darkest (immediate) fears lied to me!”

“So rude,” Steven tutted. “Revenge?”

Connie shook the sword over her head, “Revenge!”

The pair locked hands and ran back to the clearing, skidding to a stop before the stationery titan. Its cruel, bulbous eyes adorned the top of the clipboard, while a thin mouth occupied the bottom. A stack of papers descriptively titled “Math Midterm” were suspended in between. As they approached, the side of its body separated into an arm, and it began to stroke and curl its bushy, handlebar mustache.

“I knew you would return,” it drawled. “After all, when the period expires, any questions left unanswered will be marked as INCORRECT!”

Its cackling shook the forest canopy. Eraser bits and mesh leaves rained across the ground for thousands of feet in every direction. “Although it hardly matters what you do. We both know you’re ill prepared and out of your depth. I’ve already taken the liberty of marking down your score.” It pointed at the corner just below its left eye, where the brand of “F-” was scrawled in crimson ink.

Steven squeezed Connie’s hand tighter. She nodded and pointed her sword directly at the paper monolith of parental disapproval, “I’m not afraid of you!”

As one, the two charged forward. The Test made a movement that suggested that if it had eyebrows it would be raising them, yet to their surprise, it made no effort to defend itself.

Steven pulled Connie by the hand and tossed her at the monster. She closed the distance in a mere moment, sending a powerful slash across The Test’s abdomen, but the strike found no purchase on its pulpy hide and glanced off harmlessly. Connie flowed with the momentum of her attack, spinning such that she landed on its chest feet-first. She immediately pushed off, back toward Steven.

Just as she started to fall, Steven summoned an inclined shield beneath her feet. Connie ran down it, tucked into a side flip, and brought the sword down in cleaving arc. Her strike connected directly in the middle of the page but bounced right off, leaving an indentation at most an inch deep into its copious volume.

Steven caught her in mid-air, bounced off of another shield, and floated back to the edge of the clearing.

“Oh dear,” it scoffed. “You appear to have made a terrible miscalculation.”

It raised arms, thick as trees and twice as dense, over its head and slammed them down on top of the children. Steven instantiated a shield just in time, dissipating the blow in a blast of sound that blew away the nearby trees and threw up a thick cloud of dust.

As the monster retracted its arms, Steven released his precautionary bubble and sighed in relief.

“Good thing I don’t have ears,” the creature mused.

“How can you hear us if you  _ don’t have ears? _ ” Connie shouted, stomping her foot in frustration.

“As part of your subconscious, I know everything that you know,” it said. “But you already knew that.”

Connie scowled at the ground. “I did know that,” she sulked.

Steven swung his arm out to the side, bringing his shield with it. “But if you actually knew what she knew,” he challenged, “then you would know that she’s gonna ace that test tomorrow!”

“Yeah, that’s right! You don’t know anything!”

It shrugged, “That would imply that you too know nothing.”

“Why am I so snarky tonight?” Connie asked herself quietly.

“You’re not snarky,” said Steven, turning up his nose. “This part of you is just rude.”

“Indeed.”

“I’m just trying to help,” it insisted, ever so earnestly. “If you’re truly prepared, then you’ll have no trouble answering a few of my  _ very _ simple questions. But if you’re not, then, well…” It smirked and resumed twirling its mustache, “We can stay up all night practicing.”

“You’ll never get away with this!”

“Just try to stop me!”

As the deranged clipboard cackled, Steven and Connie whispered of strategy.

“Frontal attacks are no good,” Connie said. “The subject matter is too dense for conventional weaponry.”

“But if we take out the frame-”

“It won’t have a spine to stand on!”

Steven nodded, “We should split up-”

“Attack from the sides-”

“Where its visibility is poor-”

“Be careful of its range,” Connie warned, noting the creature’s ten foot long arms. “It won’t have to see us to land a hit.”

“I could distract it while you strike from behind.”

The creature made a show of clearing the throat it didn’t have, then said, “Yes, try that. I’m sure it’ll work.”

“Stupid, treasonous subconscious!” Connie mumbled.

“Don’t worry,” said Steven. “We’ve got this!”

Connie gave a hum of agreement, and the two charged forward once again.

The creature rocked in place, swinging its arms, and with a quick step forward, sent a deadly haymaker arcing toward them.

Without breaking stride, Steven raised his shield, deflecting the massive wooden arm harmlessly overhead. He summoned a second shield, spun, and threw it at the nightmare. As Connie slid between its legs, the shield embedded itself several inches deep into the creature’s oaken frame.

Connie unleashed a flurry of strikes against its back, each carving out slivers of wood that vanished in a poof of black smoke. As she prepared her next series, Steven readied another shield and hurled it at the monster’s base.

It rolled its eyes and opened its mouth, letting the shield soar through. Connie shouted in surprise as a shield rocketed toward her head, but she parried it to the side and hacked down on the creature’s jaw once, twice, three times to no effect.

It snapped its mouth closed, trapping the sword. It then flicked the shield out of its chest and into the dirt where it dispersed in a shower of pink sparks.

“Connie,” Steven yelled, “I really wish your subconscious didn’t have such strict policies regarding dream physics!”

Connie futilely tugged on her sword, “Me too!”

“I could really do with some rocket shoes right now. Or, like, a giant chainsaw?” When both failed to appear, he dashed to her side. As he slipped between its legs, they snapped closed into a seamless whole.

“Steven, those weapons aren’t practical.”

“I know, but it’s just a dream.”

“You say that, but, I mean, look at this thing!” It started to lean toward them. “Uhh, Steven! Look at this thing!”

“Ahh!” Steven summoned the largest shield he could against its back, propping it up with both hands. Little by little, the nightmare slid forward, applying ever more pressure.

Its arms, which had swung around to entrap them, moved back to its front. Connie froze. She saw their chance to escape, but Steven might not be able to hold the shield on the run, and she couldn’t just leave him behind.

There was a rustling and a grunt as the monster hefted a sheaf of paper and tossed it overhead. The pressure on the shield relaxed momentarily as the monster’s weight shifted upward, but it wasn’t to last, as the metal bindings directed the pages up and back over.

Connie dove for the shield she deflected earlier. As she reached out, it snapped to her forearm, and she raised it just in time to absorb the brunt of the force, but the weight was too much for her to stop entirely, and she was sent flying into Steven. The shield clattered to the ground as she lost focus, and the curtain of paper swung slowly in place, leaving them only a couple of feet to maneuver.

The monster launched another handful. Steven let go of the shield with one hand, swung his forearm around to the previous sheaf, and instantiated a third, concurrent shield. With a cry of intense focus, Steven pushed against it with all of his strength, flinging it upward into the oncoming wall of paper. The two collided, canceling their momentum in a thunderous crack, and began to fall as one. Steven braced himself but wasn’t prepared for their combined mass. He cried out in pain as the shields dug into his arms on both sides, and the shield by his feet blinked out of existence.

The monster cackled with unrestrained glee, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that paper beats rock?”

“Hey!” Connie snapped. She struggled to her feet, growling, “You do  _ not _ get to call him that!”

“No! I- err, I mean that’s not- not  _ him _ . I was referring- Y’know to the whole spherical aspect formed by the shields. C-C’mon I’m a monster, not a bigot.”

But for all its words, it was still trying to crush them flat.

While it was distracted, Connie mirrored Steven’s pose, and face to face, they fought to free themselves together, yet Connie pushed with all her might, and it didn’t seem to make any difference.

“I can’t do it! It’s too much.”

“You don’t have to,” he whispered. “I’m here too; we’ll do it together.”

Connie nodded.

“It’s just a thought. It can’t hurt you.”

“I know, but-”

“Just breathe,” he reminded her. “We’re gonna be OK.”

Connie took a series of steadying breaths, focusing on the absolute truth of Steven’s promise, and suddenly, the paper didn’t feel quite so heavy. They forced it back a few inches and took a step toward the exit. Then another.

“Q-Quiet!” The monster roared, “Mind your own business! You don’t even belong here!”

She scowled up at it, “Yes he does!” Connie’s eyes widened as inspiration struck. She smirked and looked back to Steven, “Yes,  _ we _ do!”

Steven understood immediately, and his expression of grim concentration broke under the force of a face-splitting grin. The two laughed as their foreheads brushed, and the monster was thrown back in an explosion of pink light.

“It’s you who doesn’t belong,” they said. “Not in my reality.”

The monster had skidded to a stop nearly twenty feet away and was still struggling to stand. Stevonnie crouched, and as they raced forward, their shields rose to their side, and their sword found its way into their hand.

The monster stumbled and swung at them recklessly. Unbidden, one of Stevonnie’s shields interposed itself. They grinned at their defeated foe and struck five times with their sword, each cut sinking deep into its text and, at points, emerging from its back.

The monster coughed in surprise, vomiting spurts of ink.

“Eww-hew-hew-hew, gross!”

They snorted and laughed, finishing it off with a roundhouse kick that sent it crashing through trees and soaring into the horizon.

They gazed off after it until they saw the telltale twinkle that, as a connoisseur of quality cartoon programming, they recognized as the hallmark of a flawless victory.

“OK. OK,” they said. “Dreams _are_ way more fun with the physics turned down.” They smirked, “I know right?”

Their celebrations were cut short by the crunching of leaves. They hopped away, twirling in midair to confront the source of the sound. They landed in a crouch with their shields hovering around them dutifully.

There before them stood the Test, stepping out of a tear through dream-space-time. It wobbled forward gingerly, hunched over itself in pain. The star they’d cut into its chest burned with curling, purplish-black smoke.

They stood up and rolled their eyes, “Oh, you’re back.”

“Of course I am. You can’t destroy knowledge with brute force!” With each word, it rose slightly in stature, and the gashes across its pages began to mend themselves, “You can’t suppress  _ truth _ with  _ violence! _ For that is what  _ I am _ : The Truth. Unfettered and unfiltered by conscious thought.”

“Uh-huh…” They said, eyeing it quizzically, “What do you want anyway?”

A deep, distorted version of Connie’s voice subsumed the one they half-recognized, and the two spoke together, “I want us to be  _ prepared _ for the  _ test _ tomorrow. We shouldn’t be  _ sleeping _ ; we need to be  _ studying _ : poring over our notes, working through more examples! This test means everything, and I won’t let you waste our precious time!”

“But I studied all weekend! I even skipped a mission to help!”

“And you think we’re ready? Fool! This isn’t your middling, middle school vocabulary quiz! We’re in high school now, and  _ this _ is a  _ midterm _ .” It pointed down at them with its giant fist, “You need to show some respect!”

“It sounds like you just want me to be afraid.”

“Same difference.”

There was a flash of light, and suddenly, the monster bore weapons befitting its size: in its left hand, a two-by-one-by-eight foot measuring plank, and in its right, a hot pink calculator shield. The ruler resembled a toothpick in its hands and swung as freely. The calculator imitated the standard, teacher-mandated scientific layout, save for its malevolent, solar-panel eyes. It’s display separated into a mouth and emitted a shrill, mocking laugh.

Stevonnie’s eyes narrowed. “Mandy,” they grumbled. “Who? Math-class Kevin. Ugh…”

“You’re quite the di-lemma,” their foe said. “But that just means your defeat will make my point all the more clear!”

They raised their sword, “Hmph. Any proposition you support, I am happy to refute.”

“Is that so? Then that brings us to the first problem.” It licked its thumb and pulled the cover page over its head, revealing a question.

_ Oh no! I haven’t studied! Wait. Yes we did.  _ They shook their head. Where had that thought even come from? They steadied their stance, sword held at the ready, shields off to either side. Whatever the monster had prepared for them, they knew they would be able to handle it.

The monster cleared its throat, “Ehm. Question 1: Bobby and Amethyst both go to the store. Amethyst wants to pick up some bananas, while Bobby needs apples to make his famous space apple pie. Apples cost $2.55/lb, and bananas cost 9.81 kilograms per meter squared. The store is 100 feet long, 500 feet wide, 30 feet tall, and has been open for 25 years. Sales tax in Delmarva is 7.5%, but they are currently visiting family in the human zoo, and the grocery chain was incorporated overseas (Ireland). There are only three employees in the store at any given time, and one of them is Lars. The expected checkout time is 5 lane-minutes per person with a variance of 10, and it’s currently 7 o’clock in the evening. Find the probability that Amethyst forgets to buy milk.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s nonsense. But…” They hummed thoughtfully, “Since you said they went to buy produce, I’d argue that they’re not there to buy milk at all and therefore can’t forget to do it.

“On the other hand, ‘Aunt Y-2’ might have asked them to buy milk as they left, so while it wasn’t their express purpose in visiting the store, it was a task they were supposed to complete and, inevitably, forget.

“Wait, duh. Amethyst has never  _ bought _ anything: 100%!”

“That is… CORRECT.” Its scowl transformed into a devilish smirk, “But you will have to mark down your answer to receive credit.”

Their eyes narrowed, “With pleasure.”


	2. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stevonnie quite literally faces their fears.

Connie’s nightmare, mathematical armaments held ready, smirked derisively at Stevonnie’s confidence, knowing that it held a decisive advantage through reach alone. They would need to get close in order to record their answer to its question – “What’s the probability Amethyst forgets to buy milk?” – but to approach any closer would invite immediate reprisal, and with such a thick shield to defend itself, Stevonnie’s stubby, little sword would prove useless. The odds of a successful counterattack, it therefore calculated, were exactly zero.

So as Stevonnie began to charge, the clipboard-mounted monstrosity swung down at them with its tree-sized measuring stick. With a flick of their sword, the fusion parried it into the dirt without breaking stride. The monster, startled by their speed, brandished its shield to keep them away, but they slid under it, pushed off the ground, and floated up to its chest. They cut once, leaving a slender “1” in the answer box before flying away.

As they landed, hair tousled by an unseen breeze, they turned with a grin, only to find their solution clouded by black smoke, which faded to reveal a pristine sheet.

“Were you planning to mark your answer, or are you already finished and ready to submit?”

They ignored the question, instead muttering to themself, “Hmm. If a sword’s not gonna work, I’ll need something mightier: a pen!”

They let their sword disperse and rubbed their palms together quickly. Drawling out a powerful kiai, their hands began to glow; they slowly separated them, revealing a shining portal. They punched inside and yanked out a red pen-spear: seven feet long, four inches thick, and covered in Crystal Gem star-stickers. They removed the cap and donned it as a bracer along their left arm.

“Let’s go!” they cried, dashing forward once more.

The monster couldn’t keep up with their movements, but still, it had learned from its mistakes, placing its calculator shield flat along the ground and pressed closely against its paper.

It slapped the ground with its ruler repeatedly, but Stevonnie deftly dodged, ducked, dipped, dove, and deflected each of them as they tried to find a way around its defense.

They poked the calculator with their spear experimentally and were delighted to find that the corresponding number appeared on its face.

“Hey, watch it!” the calculator complained, in a shrill, demanding tone they half-recognized.

They smirked as a plan took root. They stabbed furiously with their pen, arms blurred by the speed, and input a new command: “sqrt(123456789)”. The calculator’s magnetic strip furrowed, and the screen simply displayed “NaN”.

“Uggh, I don’t know that. Go, like, bother someone else.”

Fueled by their success, they input another command – “2=1” – and hit enter. The screen returned “FALSE”.

“No it doesn’t. What’s your deal?”

They snickered as they input another command, “80085 ENTER”.

“Yeah. Real mature.”

“1/0 ENTER”.

The screen flared red, displaying “ERROR!ERROR!ERROR!ERROR!”

“Ouch! Aggh, forget _this_. I’m outta here.”

With a huff, the shield poofed into nothingness.

“Bye Mandy!”

They leaped forward, marked their response, and retreated out of range, all the while avoiding the wrath of the monster’s measuring stick.

The monster grunted in outrage. “Fine,” it said as it flipped to the next page. “Question two: The ocean contains exactly 168.45168453435498735138919376613841347543184 million liters of water. Each liter of water is exactly 85.91203958710239586146123046301982573609183% salt by mass. The seasoning of a perfect Chaaaap requires 2.47799135133873 grams of salt and is comprised of the ratio between 1.978135498132464651358729340578096 parts vinegar to 3.1684348710937509285723984051435 parts salt. If all the world’s oceans were desalinated with 99.9993241687651354% efficiency, how many kilograms of salt would that produce? In a process that is 94.85732168761357913254% efficient, how many bags of Chaaaaps could be produced if each bag holds, on average, 47.1029385709486709825743 Chaaaaps? How much vinegar would be required, and at a rate of 42 liters per minute, how long would it take to produce? Assume a seawater density of 1.0 kg/L, and…” It smiled and sang, “Do. Not. Round.”

They gave it an amused look, “Is- is _any_ part of that true?”

“We don’t know. Does it matter?”

“I guess not. It’s a pretty easy question.”

The monster started, but they grinned back confidently, realizing that it had made a strategic blunder, for by making the problem harder, it had also made the solution more difficult to validate. At least, they didn’t think there was a quick way to validate the answer, although they weren’t sure how they might go about proving that…

“This P is NP!” they declared, leaping forward.

The monster grunted. A massive pencil appeared in its hand, and it slammed the eraser into the dirt, shaking the forest.

Stevonnie hopped as it struck, deciding to float in the air until the tremors passed. In the interim, they entertained themself by spinning in circles, swimming through the dream-air, and generally ignoring their looming responsibility.

The nightmare placed the center of its ruler over the tip of the pencil and pulled with both hands. The wood cracked and splintered as it was forced downward. Once the ruler was fastened firmly, the monster tugged the pencil out of the ground and pointed the tip at them. Slowly, it rubbed its hands together, and the ruler began to spin, first one way, then the other, faster and faster, until it commanded a maelstrom of wind.

The sudden gust cast Stevonnie backward. They spun aimlessly for a moment but quickly stabilized themself with their floating powers and stabbed their pen into the ground, dragging themself to a stop. They repositioned their shields to their front and enlarged them to redirect the wind, but without a plan to stop the source, they knew they’d never be able to record their responses.

The monster suddenly raised the blades above its head, lifting off into the air. It rose quickly and dropped out of the sky on top of them, keeping them pinned down with blasts of wind.

Stevonnie kneeled and extended a shield above them, rooting it into the dirt.

With a powerful twist of the rotor, the nightmare pushed itself away at the moment of impact, flipping with a grace belied by its size. Despite everything, Stevonnie had to admit that it was an impressive maneuver. At least, until it stumbled head-first into a tree. It busied itself smoothing out its pages, which had become ruffled midflight, in an attempt to save face, but the moment was gone.

“Nice moves!” Stevonnie said. “But I’ve got some of those too.”

They threw all three of their shields at it. The first cut off its hand, which the monster immediately grew back, but the second knocked the recently-disarmed rotor to the ground, and the third hovered over the top of it, pinning it to the forest floor.

The monster tugged on it futilely, and Stevonnie used that moment to strike. They dashed underneath it, drew back their pen, and unleashed a flurry of swipes. Over the next thirty seconds, they alternated between knocking the monsters strikes away and writing down the solution.

It stumbled back as hundreds then thousands then tens of thousands of digits were carved into its abdomen in tiny, precise writing, but Stevonnie pressed forward, unyielding until every answer was provided down to the last, non-repeating decimal point1.

The monster screamed in agony and outrage. “How did you do that?” it asked, for it could feel their assurance and knew they were right.

“I dunno; I can just kinda feel it. Steven’s like that too, but when I’m Connie, I have to work it out. It’s like I have a calculator in my head or, I guess, in my belly.”

“So, what you’re saying is that Connie couldn’t have solved it.”

“Maybe? But it doesn’t matter. It’s true that most of the time I’m Steven and Connie, but right now, I’m me.”

“You’re you? Fine! Then I suppose it’s time I too became you!”

“Huh?”

With clenched fists, the nightmare crouched and started screaming. Its pages blew back as if caught in a breeze, and it was covered in a noxious-pink glow.

“Hmm. That’s not good. What’s it doing? I think it’s powering up. Ooh, like in Super Dragon Orbs?”

The monster started to grow taller; its arms swelled as layer after layer of wood emerged, crawled, and stitched its way across its body.

“Yep. Exactly like that. Should we stop it? That probably would have been a good idea. On the bright side, I finally understand the yelling. It’s to confuse the opponent into inaction! Woah, that’s good. We’ll have to use that some time. Can you _imagine_ what Pearl-”

With one final cry, two gems erupted out of its body. In place of its left eye, it now bore a Ruby, and a Yellow Diamond had emerged from its chest, ripping a hole through its pages. Out of its back sprouted a Centipeetle tail, complete with pincers. Its left wrist had morphed into a wooden breaking point, a stethoscope had grown out of its chin, orange and green spikes covered its body, and a dark purple shield blinked into existence by its side.

Stevonnie slowly took in the sight before them and came to the conclusion that it was the office supply store equivalent to Frankenstein’s monster, “Ugh. You’re really ugly.”

“Tell me!” it demanded, flipping to the next page. “How many marbles of radius ‘r’ fit in a cubical box with side length ‘s’?”

“Wait, I have to answer real questions? Ahh!” They had to duck to avoid the Centipeetle tail that snaked between monster’s legs. Using their spear, they knocked it aside. They summoned a pair of rocket shoes as they leapt back and flew away as fast as they could, trying to buy time to consider the Test’s question unimpeded.

The monster followed, “Why haven’t you cured me?”

“I- I’m working on it!”

It cried in Bismuth’s voice, “Liar! You left me to rot! Just like her!” It aimed the breaking point at them and fired. Stevonnie twisted in the air, knocked the bolt away with their shield, and kept moving.

“It’s just trying to distract me. I need to focus. The number of spheres that can fit in a cube? That’s just the ratio of their volumes, right?”

They formed a cubical bubble in their palm and populated it with smaller, spherical bubbles. “But, wait, what about the empty space? I can subtract it from the total volume, but how do I know how much of it there is?”

They risked a look behind themself to find the monster using its arms and tail to hop between trees. It pointed at them again, and they swerved to avoid another human-sized, wooden slug.

“And doesn’t it depend on how the spheres are stacked?” They frowned in concentration as they observed the problem. In its current state, each layer was stacked directly on top of the previous layer, with each sphere directly above the one below it. “If I shift them into the holes, could I fit more in?”

They telekinetically vacated the cube and restacked it so that each sphere sat in the depression between the ones below it. Where before it had held twenty spheres, it now held twenty-eight. “Nice!” They hummed to themself, wondering how they might rearrange them to force even more inside, but if there was such a formation, they couldn’t find it.

Another bolt bounced harmlessly off the shields behind and below them.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Timed test. I’m workin’ on it.” They floated to a halt. “Wait, why am I running if it can’t get through my shields?” They flew up another hundred feet and surrounded themself in an array of shields, one for each side. “Why am I taking this test at all? I could just go to sleep up here-”

A portal opened thirty feet away, small at first, but gradually widening as a giant metal finger poked through. The rest of the craft emerged behind it, crashing point-first into their small, floating sky fortress. The finger reared back then shot forward, flicking them across the horizon. It followed up with a volley of lasers for good measure.

As Stevonnie flew through the air in a glorified hamster ball, they instinctively threw out their arms; the shields on their sides followed suit, puffing out and catching the wind in just the right way to stabilize their flight. They pushed, pulled, and tilted their shields to control their fall, dodging or deflecting each laser sent after them, but the handcraft was much faster and quickly gaining.

They turned back to the puzzle floating along with them, fixed in place a few inches away from their chest as their will demanded.

“What if I looked at a smaller portion, a cube within a cube? I could choose it in a way that I could stack it to form the full cube, but it’d be easier to analyze.” They decided that seemed like a good approach, but they couldn’t find a shape that could be stacked yet also enclosed only a single sphere. “It’s too small,” they said as they evaded another round of laser fire. “What if I included multiple spheres?”

They formed another cubical bubble, smaller than the first, and moved it amongst the other bubbles, measuring them to find the right size and orientation. “There! Centered in the empty space, where it touches all of the spheres around it!”

Each face of the cube contained half of a sphere, while each corner contained an eighth of another. Stevonnie doubted Connie would have ever figured it out on her own, and part of them wondered how they themself had done it. It was almost as if they already knew what to do, as if some hidden part of them instinctively understood how such things are arranged, and as they thought about it, a name from one of Pearl's lectures came to mind, “It’s a lattice: a face-centered, cubic, crystal lattice2.”

They shook their head and put those thoughts aside. “Each cube holds half a sphere for each face, and an eighth of a sphere for each corner, so that’s a total of six hemispheres, or three, plus eight eights of a sphere, so… four total?”

The ship finally caught up to them. The Test leaned out of a hatch in the side, eyes wild. Its gems glowed, and it shot a mixture of lightning and fire.

Stevonnie willed the shield ahead of them to a halt, slammed into it feet-first, then pushed off in the other direction. As they shot off back the way they came, the ship rocketed away at full speed. “Haaa ha! You’ll never catch _me!_ ”

They giggled until they snorted, but even over the roar of the wind and engines, a cry of desperate fury could be heard from the nightmare, now hundreds of feet away.

“OK, so the small cube holds four spheres, but there’s still empty space. What’s its total volume? How long is each side?”

They landed in a tree and hid amongst the foliage. They kept their eyes closed as they approached so that even they wouldn’t know exactly where. “If each face cuts right through the center of a sphere, then it’s at least 2r wide, right?”

They looked down at their cube and focused. Slowly, a single face of the small, cubical bubble rose out of it. Small cavities, perforations, ran throughout its surface along where it had intersected other bubbles, forming a clear cross-section. They studied it intently.

“Ooh, each corner contains a quarter-circle from each of the spheres, and they all osculate with the circle in the middle.” As they stroked their chin and lower lip, purportedly in concentration, the observation caused their mind to wander toward more enjoyable thoughts. Begrudgingly, they pulled their focus back.

“T-that’s s-silly. Ahem, anyway, so uhh… The circles have radius r, so the side is a little bit more than two, but how big is that gap? Wait! The diagonal has length 4r, so since the sides are the same, that means they’re each 2sqrt(2)r long! That means the volume is 16sqrt(2)r3, and the density is, uhh, π/(3sqrt(2))! Since they stack, the density of the small one is the same as the big one, so the effective volume is πs3/(3sqrt(2)), so the number of spheres is equal to, umm, π's cancel, 3’s cancel, uhh, sqrt(2)/8*(s/r)3!”

The forest shook with the nightmare’s frustration. It started blasting the trees indiscriminately from above.

“OK. Now for the easy part: fly to the ship while dodging lasers, infiltrate, bring it down, wrestle a 50-ton pile of wood and gem weaponry, and record my response.”

But as they looked up, the monster used that information to pinpoint their location. It angled the handship toward them and threw it into full throttle.

“I’m beginning to suspect that this test is merely a contrivance for my subconscious to express some deeper issues.”

Based on its speed and angle relative to the ground, Stevonnie realized that there was simply no way the ship could avert impact, not that it intended to try. They leapt away, hopping between trees to escape, but the Test simply adjusted the ship’s trajectory accordingly.

“Wait, why am I running away like some, silly sci-fi protagonist…?” They resummoned their rocket shoes and flew into the air instead. Immediately, a portal opened above them, and a fist came swinging out.

They used their pen cap bracer to deflect its strike, maneuvering into a grapple around its forearm.

“It’s time to go to bed!” Using their shields as anchors, they twisted hard, pulling it through the breach and hurling it toward the ground.

With only moments before impact, they bubbled themself and staggered their shields into a massive, unified array, leaving only a single shield to support their bubble from behind. It cupped them perfectly, preventing them from being blown back by the inevitable explosion.

The nightmare slammed into the ground, shattering the forest floor. It glanced up just as a green blur crashed into it finger-first.

Stevonnie watched as the handship collapsed in an instant, disappearing in a cloud of dust and fire. Their defenses protected them from the shockwave while their bubble sheltered them from the debris raining down.

They concentrated on the residual smoke and willed it away. The forest in the vicinity had been vaporized, leaving only scorched earth and a massive crater, where the Test lay healing.

They then floated down from their perch, landing on top of its chest and pinning its joints to the ground with their shields. The monster struggled against them futilely but found itself completely immobilized.

“You’re still here, huh?”

“You can’t-” it wheezed and coughed, “defeat me!”

“Maybe, maybe not,” they said, “but it appears that you certainly can!”

Stevonnie unstrapped the pen from their back and wrote down the question’s solution: “For s≥2r, the cube can hold at most sqrt(2)/8*(s/r)3 spheres3.”

“Can I go to sleep now?”

“No! We are still… unprepared.”

“Ugh.” They had one of their shields flip the page to the next problem, one seemingly involving simple arithmetic, “How many of these do you have?”

“Enough.”

They rolled their eyes and looked down. The problem read:

“Ooh, I love these!” they cried. “What is it? It’s a math problem. Each word represents a number, and each letter represents a digit in that number, but each letter has to be different, so if ‘S=1’, then no other letter can be a ‘1’ unless it’s an ‘S’. Cool! Let’s try it.”

The monster shook with laughter, “This problem is extra credit. If you can solve it, I’ll give us an ‘A’!”

They thought through it quickly, “Well obviously, ‘V’ has to be either ‘1’ or ‘0’, but since ‘N+E=Y’ _and_ ‘N+E=T’ and since ‘T’ can’t be equal to ‘Y’, ‘V+N’ must carry over. That means ‘N=8 or 9’, but that’s impossible because ‘N=9’ plus the carry over ‘1’ makes ‘10’, implying ‘E=T’, yet if ‘N’ were ‘8’, it would imply ‘O=0’ and ‘T=1+N[8]+E’, which carries over because ‘0’ is now claimed, which therefore means ‘C=T+O=1+8+E+0+1=E+10=E’. The rules state no two letters can be the same, but it must be so. Therefore, there is a contradiction.”

The monster cackled gleefully, “Oh well! I guess you’ll just have to solve the rest of them. All 8998!”

“I bet you think you’re really clever, huh? Using a problem that you think doesn’t have a solution?”

“ _I_ think? You just proved it yourself!”

“No I didn’t. I just said there was a contradiction.”

“Yes! _Proof_ by contradiction!”

“Nope. Sometimes, you just need to turn it up to 11. If you do, I think you’ll find it’s pretty obvious that there are actually _two_ solutions.”

They then wrote the following:

“You see, the problem with keeping all of the words in the same base is that the variable ‘V’ is overconstrained, and while that’s true, the problem doesn’t have a solution, no matter what base you use. But when you raise Steven and Connie to a higher level, the restraints that held us back no longer apply. In fact, those restrictions became critical to the solution. It looked like it couldn’t be done _because_ ‘V’ had to be either ‘0’ or ‘1’, but now look! There’s a solution for both, and no others.”

“You’re right! How did I not see it?”

“You’re part of my subconscious,” they shrugged. “You just lack the perspective to see anything beyond what you’re for.”

“ _I_ lack perspective?” It spoke in all three of their voices now. “You’re still not taking this seriously!”

“Well, I mean, I did solve all of your problems _pretty_ trivially.”

Its countenance shifted suddenly, “Godspeed Stevonnie.”

They felt a tingling in their gem, telling them something was approaching, something dangerous. Without a second though they took off into the sky, narrowly avoiding being skewered by the Test’s purple shield.

They hovered in the air a dozen feet above the nightmare as if flailed on the ground in an attempt to free itself of its bindings, “Oh, come on! That movie was terrible. It- it wasn’t me! That scene was pretty cool though,” they added absentmindedly.

The monster huffed then disappeared, only to reemerge from a portal by the edge of the crater.

“How come I can’t teleport?”

The monster was content to monologue as its body repaired itself. “My form is but a piece of this dream, and so I’m free to move about, but this realm reflects who we are, or at least, who you _think_ we are. It moves with you. You can no more disappear from it than a mouse could from an owl.” It smirked in a way that screamed, _And I’m the owl,_ while brushing its mustache. “But you already knew that.”

They crossed their arms. “I did know that,” they sulked.

The monster sighed in relief as its last paper cut mended itself, “Ahh. Much better. Now, for question five-”

“No. We’re done. You already gave me an A. I’m clearly prepared for the test, so goodnight.”

“Honey, I’m disappointed in you,” it said in Mom’s voice. “Are you satisfied with just an A? I thought you wanted more.” In Steven’s, “I thought you wanted to be president.” And in Pearl’s, “A Crystal Gem must always strive to push their limits. That’s the only advantage we have.”

“I’m starting to lose my patience. It’s been a lot of fun being me, but I was supposed to be asleep five minutes ago. It’s time for you to go. Now.”

“Just one more question! If you get it right, I’ll leave.”

Stevonnie eyed it suspiciously as they floated down, landing only a few feet away. “Fine. But no more tricks. I have two big days tomorrow, and I just don’t have time to deal with you tonight.”

“It’s a simple matter, really, but first,” once more it assumed their worried mother’s voice, “what have you done with Connie? Who are you? Where’s my daughter?”

They recoiled from the monster, which was suddenly wearing a white lab coat. When had it put that on? “I- I’m-” They felt lightheaded, confused. They blinked, took a step back, but it only got worse.

Dad spoke next, “Fusion? No. Nah-uh. No.” Then Mom, “Why’d you wait so long to tell us? I thought you trusted us.”

Their mind was numb and their surroundings were hazy, like staring through a pane of frosted glass. Where were they? Why were they here? Why _were_ they at all?

But that was obvious: they lived here of course. They smiled and shook their head as they approached the Maheswaran residence’s front door. How silly to get worked up like that in their own home.

They reached for the handle but something made them stop.

They’d forgotten the mail. Of course. But that was easily fixed, and soon they tried again, yet some part of them held their hand back.

Their feet. They hadn’t wiped their feet! That was why there was a mat. And that was why it had been placed here. Here. By the front door. The threshold. Who were they to deny the mat its purpose?

They made sure to achieve a thorough scrubbing, as bare feet collect grime like Pearl collects swords. Still, they could not proceed.

That’s right. They had to unlock it first. They had their keys, but no- Maybe the doorbell? Definitely not. Should they try the garage? Float straight to their bedroom window?

Were those voices? Inside? Oh no.

Oh _no_.

Mom and Dad. Were they already home? What if they saw? No. No they couldn’t.

They needed to get out of there, so they ran.

“Disgusting!” The one word shook the court. They looked around to find themself surrounded by gems. Amethysts, Rubies, Jaspers, and Citrines, dozens of each, winced as their Diamond’s voice echoed around them. “What is this- this form you’ve taken?”

Jasper stood beside her, pointing down at them accusingly. “She _fused_ with a human.”

“A human? But it’s organic!” Blue and Yellow shared a horrified glance. “Dispose of it. It is the Rose Quartz who is on ‘trial.’ Not this- thing.”

The guards closed in.

Their hands were bound but they weren’t going down without a fight. A yellow finger crashed down from above. They formed a bubbled and closed their eyes.

“Stevonnie. You’ve been paying attention!”

“Huh?”

Their eyes snapped up from their desk toward the front of the classroom. Their math teacher was kneeling there, clearly in the middle of his lecture, and he was looking right at them. Had they been daydreaming? How irresponsible.

“Why don’t you tell the class how to solve this problem? Better yet, why don’t you come to the board and teach us all? I’m sure everyone would love to see your brilliance in action, and maybe later you can help them study, since you’re obviously so much smarter than they are and frankly they could use the help.”

They glanced at the whiteboard embedded in his chest. It was full of symbols they didn’t recognize and equations they couldn’t understand. The writing was blurred and constantly moving; it was impossible to focus on any individual part long enough to comprehend it. They looked around the room which was full of their peers, mannequins whose only feature were their shining, silver eyes. Their judgmental stares provided the only light in the room. “Is that… really necessary?”

“What was that?”

“I just- I’m not sure…”

“If you can’t do it, that’s fine.” The Twenty-Foot-Tall-Teacher was grinning.

“I mean, I might be able to.” In spite of the attention, some small, rebellious part of them didn’t want to concede. They were certain they could figure it out if they tried. But how could they possibly say that in front of everybody, and why were they all still staring? “But maybe someone else could try this time?”

“It’s fine if you don’t know how, Stevonnie. If people knew everything, we wouldn’t need school, would we? But if _you_ don’t know how to do it, then I’m sure no one else in class does, so I won’t bother asking. You can just stay seated, and we’ll continue on with the lesson.”

Stevonnie looked between the whiteboard and the grinning face encompassing it.

The Teacher hastily added, “But if you think you can solve it, I need you to come up front.” Stevonnie’s desk started to crack where they squeezed it. The Teacher leaned in, “So. Everyone. Can. See. You. Work.”

They stood, sending chair flying, “No! Just because I usually know the answer, doesn’t mean you should call on me _every single time!_ ” Their classmates vanished in a puff of smoke. “And just because I’m _quiet_ , doesn’t mean I need help ‘getting out of my shell!’”

Suddenly, the classroom disappeared, and they were back in the forest by the crater, as if they had never left.

They blinked, “Huh? Sorry. I didn’t mean to- No, no it’s alright; that must be terrible. It’s not that bad. How can he pick on you like that? Really, it’s OK; he’s not a bad teacher. He’s just… new.” They thought for a moment, “I should say something; I’m sure he’d understand. Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

They looked up at the monster, and for the first time, it looked afraid. It waddled backward on its jointless legs, knocking over trees, but even as it moved, it never seemed to get any further away. They could see the problem clearly now. There was a circle with diameter ‘R’ with a line of thickness ‘h’ running across the middle. To them, it resembled the international symbol for “No.” The question read: “What is the area of the unshaded region? Motivate your answer.”

 _Easy,_ they thought, _if it goes through the middle, it leaves two sections on the side untouched. I just need to find the area of one of them and double it. It’s like an ice cream cone. I’ll just take the area of the whole sector and subtract the triangly-bit._

They quickly worked out the tedious trigonometric identities, and approached the nightmare with their pen held ready. The monster glanced about in fear. It raised its hand back summoned a protractor and launched it at them.

They side stepped it on the first pass, but it arced around to strike them from behind.

They ducked under it, and as it passed overhead, they stuck their pen through the center, capturing the weapon for themself. Using their pen as an axis, they spun the protractor over their head like a hula hoop before promptly returning it with a cry of “Boomerang blade!”

A massive yellow form, taller than even the Test, manifested itself ahead of them. It caught the protractor in its mighty fist and crushed it. “A Crystal Gem. A fusion. An organic-gem abomination. I can’t decide which of your crimes is most egregious.” It strode forward. “A thing like you isn’t fit to exist.”

They dashed toward it, “I’m not afraid of you!” It froze mid swing, and Stevonnie launched themself at it, plunging their spear deep into its chest. As they collided, it parted around them like a cloud and was no more.

Between them and the Test, a number of figures appeared. Bismuth, Jasper, Eyeball, and Mandy stood directly in their path, Aquamarine and Topaz slightly behind. Off to the side, Stevenmom was facing down Hessonite, Garnet and Pearl’s gems lay by her feet. She cried for their aid.

They kept running. “Or you!” Poof. “Or you, or you, or you!” They pushed onward, dispatching every illusion with a blow from their spear, until they skidded to a stop before Mom and Dad.

The monster chuckled to itself as it raised its arms over its head.

But Stevonnie didn’t notice that, for their attention was focused entirely on their parents.

They hesitated for a moment, but then Mom smiled. They looked to Dad, and he smiled too. Stevonnie rushed forward, embracing them, “Or you.”

The monster saw them with their guard lowered. It saw them distracted, vulnerable, and weak. It saw them and knew that with this, its most clever trick, it had claimed victory. They had been too trusting, too desperate, too hopeful. If they had just listened, they would’ve known better, but they hadn’t, and that was why they had lost. In that moment, the monster struck.

Something protected them.

It wasn’t a bubble, nor was it a shield. It was something more. It lacked form, yet it was impenetrable to all forces comprehensible or otherwise, for it was beyond such things, a deterrent of reality itself. And there in the garden of rationality, where all was ordered and well-defined, Cause was overruled in the seat of its power.

As Mom and Dad dispersed, Stevonnie stepped forward. They crouched down and concentrated. There was a flash too fast for the eye to follow and suddenly, in a spurt of red ink, a series of gashes sprung up along test’s titanic torso.

“What!? But how!?” It staggered backward. “How did I lose?” it cried in anguish. Crackling filled the glade as, from the corners inward, their nightmare slowly turned to stone.

Stevonnie put the cap back on their pen, wiped the tears from their cheeks, and smiled, “You didn’t lose. You’re a part of me, an important part, and maybe Connie doesn’t understand how to handle you just yet, but she will someday.”

“What are you talking about?” it sputtered. The horror of its imminent demise colored its voice. “You can’t control me! I am All That You Fear!”

“She doesn’t fear _you_ ,” they said gently. “She fears _what could be_. Maybe she did once, but never again.”

“No! No! You should be powerless before me! I should have destroyed you utterly!”

“You may represent our doubts and insecurities, and you may embody what we fear most.” They paused and fixed the fading nightmare with a rebellious grin. “But I am the promise of our brightest dreams, hope given form! You could never beat me.”

They turned and walked away.

“It can’t end like this. It won’t- I will return! I will return!”

Its cries still echoing in the distance, the avatar of anxiety crumbled to dust.

“I know. But-” With a wave of their hand, their garden returned to its unblemished form and all traces of its presence vanished from their mind, “I’m here.”

They took a deep breath of the fresh, woodland air and sighed in delight, “Ahhhh. Now, back to what I came here for. Let’s see…” They reached down and picked up the bouquet by their feet, “You added some sunflowers! How did you know they’re my favorite?”

They blushed and combed their hair back over their shoulder, “I didn’t. I just picked them because I liked them and- because they remind me of you.”

They giggled merrily.

“OK. I just need to find some starflowers, and that should be it.”

The plant’s distinctive pattern and warm colors made it easy to spot. They kneeled down and plucked a couple for the bouquet. Like the rest of the indigenous plant life, the flowers had been substituted for geometric shapes, in this case ditrigonal dodecadodecahedrons. Technically, they were still budding, but Stevonnie liked how their hues complemented the sunflowers and dodecahedroses.

“Great! And now I just need to deliver these to, uhh, me!”

They hugged their present, savoring deeply the smell of symmetry, “Aww, that’s so sweet! I can’t believe you went to all this trouble just to bring me some flowers.”

“Of course I did.”

“Thanks,” they said. “I love them.”

After a few moments, their surroundings started to sink into the floor, startling them from their reverie. They looked around confused as the wooded setting was replaced by an infinite stretch of blue tile.

“Oh. I… guess the dream is over.”

“Wow, that was really easy!” They rubbed their chin, thinking about how quickly they dispatched the mathematical monstrosity and how they gathered the requisite flowers without interference, “Too easy. My adventures usually have some sort of bizarre and dramatic twist.”

They looked all around, as if expecting a new dream villain to appear at any moment. When it became clear that their upcoming challenger was neither courteous nor honorable, they said, “Well, now that the dream is _finished_ , I guess I’ll just,” they cleared their throat, “ _go back to sleep_ …”

They dreamed themself up a nightstand, a vase, and a fusion-sized bed. They positioned the flowers with meticulous care before hopping into bed, bouncing several times before lying down on their back, arms behind their head. When they finally giggled themself out, they slowly closed their eyes.

And shot up in bed, checking to each side.

“Huh. I guess there’s no one here.”

They laid down and closed their eyes again. After a few moments, they looked up, shouting, “Gotcha!” But still, nothing appeared.

“I see you’re a patient one,” they whispered. “Well so am I.”

Mentally switching to clandestine operation mode, they laid down one final time and pretended to sleep, but periodically, they would carefully crack open their eyelids to search for intruders to their mindscape.

Yet they found nothing, and each time, their eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Soon, they were fast asleep…

* * *

Footnotes:

* * *

1\. I have no idea how many digits it would take to express the answers exactly, but because of the division component (the ratio), it could potentially be longer than this entire fic. When multiplying two numbers, the length of the result is, at most, the sum of the lengths of the two numbers (99*999=98901) and, at the least, 1 less than that (e.g. 10*100=1000). Division is multiplication by a reciprocal, and the reciprocal of a rational number can either terminate (1/2=0.500) or repeat (1/3 = .333). The length of the repeating section is at most n-1, where n is the number itself (e.g. 1/7 has 6 repeating digits = .142857 142857 …). Therefore, it’s possible that the answer has more than 10^33 digits, which is on the same order as the mass of the sun in kilograms. (1.978… can be factored into its prime components, the largest of which is 29 digits long (length m). m-1 is the maximum length of the reciprocal, but the true length is likely less than that (it's a value that divides m-1, one of which is m-1), so it could be much smaller, as small as only 1 digit. Note that this is just the repeated part, and that there could be many non-repeating decimals before it (eg. 1/6 = 0.1 66666). In other words, I don’t know the answer, so I’m going to pretend like it can fit on the page as described.)

2\. A crystal lattice is the “symmetrical three-dimensional arrangement of atoms inside a crystal.” Technically, what Stevonnie constructed is a unit cell, which can theoretically be stacked any number of times to form a crystal structure. It makes sense to me that, as a gem (who usually emrge knowing everything about themself), Stevonnie would have some inherent/instinctual knowledge about how they are structured. 

3\. This answer is hardly exact. For small cubes, it doesn’t work at all. For example, you could choose s=2.5r. The answer says you can fit two spheres in there, but that’s not the case unless you cut them up. However, for cubes that are large relative to the spheres they contain, this answer works quite well, as you can never fit more spheres than it states (unless you find a more efficient way to pack them).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, they forgot to unfuse! Oh well, I’m sure that will have no serious consequences regarding the activities they had planned for the day.
> 
> Problem 4 (the word problem) is known as an alphametic puzzle (also cryptarithm). Technically, I bent the rules by allowing a solution with a number that begins with a 0 (V), but that’s a stupid rule anyway. 
> 
> Problem 5: About 39.1%. There are a number of ways to solve this, which should yield the remaining area as 2*(R-h)2*cos-1(r/(R-h))-2r*sqrt((R-h)2-r2).


	3. Chapter 3

As a teenager made of teenagers, Stevonnie decided that the process of waking up was, in a word, unenviable. It was a new experience for them, one that was hardly improved by the pounding in their heads and gem. The memory of the sweetest dream – one of Steven and Connie celebrating a world of flowers and symmetry – was slowly fading from their mind. They clung to it in a lazy haze as one of their phones barked insistently for their attention.

With a groan, they cracked open their left eye to find the beach house silent and empty. They closed it gratefully and snuggled deeper into their pillows. Yet, impossibly, they could still hear that most detestable of sounds.

With an even louder groan, they opened their right eye this time, immediately noticing the phone that Connie had strategically set on the far dresser. It sat between the closet and the door to their room, well out of reach. As they eyed it with pure resentment, a bubble formed to enclose it. The room filled with blessed silence, and they grinned their way back to sleep.

There was a knock on their door. “Connie?” Mom called. “Are you up yet honey?”

They grumbled an incomprehensible reply.

She opened the door and stepped in, casting light throughout the room, “Just because you’re a teenager now doesn’t mean that you can sleep all day.”

They grumbled some more and rolled away from the door, _I’ve always been a teenager,_ their rebellious thought.

“OK. Five more minutes, but if waking up becomes a problem, we might have to cut back on school-night missions.”

She closed the door softly behind her.

And then it opened again. Mom walked around the bed and sat by their side.

“That wasn’t five minutes,” they mumbled.

“You’re right,” she said. “It was seven.”

They blinked wearily. The beach house flashed before their eyes, but that wasn’t right, and they blinked it away.

“Are you feeling OK?” Mom asked.

“Headaches…”

“You’re probably dehydrated.”

They shook their head.

“Hmm. How about you get ready, and I’ll get the espirin?”

“OK…”

As Mom left the room, they crawled to the side of the bed. Eventually, they sat up and slowly stood-

Or, they tried to stand, but their legs weren’t long enough to reach the ground, and they stumbled across the floor. “Huh? What’s- going on?”

They reached for the closet, but the handle was further away than they expected. They got it open on the third try and immediately checked the mirror. Nothing seemed wrong – that was Connie’s reflection, and they _were_ Connie, so that checked out – but they couldn’t help feeling that they were supposed to be taller somehow.

“Can I come in?”

Their Connie half jumped. “That was fast,” they said as they let Mom into their room.

“You’re not dressed yet?”

They looked down to see themself wearing their favorite, blue nightgown. Although, how could it be their favorite if they’d never worn it before? “Uhh, no?”

Mom sighed and handed them a pill and a glass of water, which they quickly downed. “Honey, you need to hurry. The bus will be in here in thirty minutes.”

“Bus?”

“The school bus. Are you felling al-”

They gasped, “School! I get to go to school?! I- I have to get ready.” They practically pushed Mom out of the room, “Thanks Dr. Momheswaran! I’ll be down in a minute, bye!”

“Dr. Momheswaran?” she laughed. “That’s a new one. I think I like it…”

As soon as the door shut, they dashed to the closet, “OK, OK, OK… First day of school. What am I gonna wear?” The answer seemed obvious, yet their star shirts were nowhere to be found, “Where did I put you?” And that’s when they discovered the stack of dresses hanging in the back corner. “Yep,” they said. “You’re coming with me.”

They nabbed the nice, red one that they had bought for Steven’s birthday last year and held it up to their body. “Perfect!” They giggled. “I’ve never worn a dress before. This is going to be so much fun!”

As they left the closet, they retrieved their phone from its bubble and silenced the alarm. There, alone in the room, they realized that everything was entirely too quiet. Something was missing, something very important.

But they didn’t have time to think about that. If they missed the bus, they’d have to fly all the way to school, unless they could get Lion to cooperate.

They hung their very pretty dress on the bathroom door and brushed their teeth. For some reason, they felt an irrepressible need to keep their eyes closed as they showered and changed, but they emerged from the bathroom a mere ten minutes later, a fair chuck of which had been spent admiring themself in the mirror.

They really liked how they looked in their dress, even if there was a small, nagging voice that felt… out of place, as if they weren’t supposed to look like this. But that was ridiculous. How else would they look? _Taller,_ the voice said, _Longer hair, bushier. Puffier cheeks, lighter skin, more muscle…_ They concentrated on these things, willing them into effect, yet nothing happened.

They frowned, but they didn’t like how that looked, so their grin returned. Still, they worried. They could usually control their powers; shapeshifting was no exception. Their skin felt strange and bumpy, and their hair was too rough, too static. Even the _sensation_ of feeling felt weird, imprecise. _It’s probably because of the shower,_ they decided. _Or maybe the soap? Not everything has to be a magical catastrophe…_ Connie’s reflection stared back at them, unconvinced.

As they descended the stairs, they were met with the smell of eggs and toast, and they doubled their pace, suddenly realizing that they were starving. They’d never felt such hunger, like they could eat enough for two people.

Mom had already, through love or pure practicality and possibly both, fixed them a plate. Dad sat beside them, sipping his coffee while checking the news on his phone. They weren’t sure which of these things made them happiest.

Mom coughed, “Connie, you can… slow down a little bit.”

“Sowwy.” They swallowed. “I’m just so hungry, and these are the best eggs I’ve ever eaten!”

“Really?” Dad asked. “I did add a touch of my secret seasoning. Maybe I should sell it, if it’s so _egg-ceptional_.”

They laughed hard enough to nearly choke. Mom glanced at them worriedly, but Dad grinned in satisfaction.

“Honey,” Mom said, “he tells that joke every morning.”

“Pshhh. Not _every_ morning.”

“Oh yeah,” they said. “I guess he does.”

“I do not!”

“Are you sure you’re OK?” Mom asked. “I know how worried you were about that midterm.”

“Yeah,” they replied. “I think I was just tired. I had this weird dream; I can’t remember it, though…” They shrugged, “I think I’m fine now. Other than that, I slept like a rock!” They chuckled at their own joke, but for some reason, neither parent seemed to find it funny.

“Well I think you’ll do great,” Dad said. “I know how hard you studied this week, and you aced the quiz I gave you.”

 _Wow_ , they thought, _hanging out with Mom and Dad is so great. Why haven’t I done this before?_ “Thanks Conniedad!”

“Conniedad?” Mom asked. She shared a confused look with Dad, who just shrugged his typical it’s-a-kid-thing shrug.

Dad looked down at his phone and sighed, “I’ve got to run. Duty calls!”

“Already?” they asked as Connie.

“Yeah, already, but I can pick you up from school… if you’re not too embarrassed to be seen with your old man.”

“No way! I’d love a ride! We could… do something fun together?”

Their minds raced with the possibilities of the things they’d never done before. Their Steven rolled contentedly in bed as their dream shifted from one of sky-fencing chess pieces to that of bowling alongside Dad.

Adjoining the kitchen was a busy bowling alley, fog covered and dimly lit. It was a recent investment, yet already proving its worth. They were slightly surprised they hadn’t noticed it earlier, but they _had_ been pretty distracted.

Before them stood a group of seedy, monocle-wearing penguins, each wearing a tattered suit. The one with the pipe – clearly the bank – apologized for their tardiness, stating that the escape from the zoo had run a little long.

Their Connie half could just barely make out the waddle of penguins along the edge of their peripheral, yet they didn’t try to turn toward them. Their Steven already had a complete view, so why bother? They would be able to keep an eye on the penguins while… also-they finished their breakfast. It was basic multi-tasking.

“You can never trust a penguin,” they muttered between bites.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Dad asked.

“They’re just really shady.” The short one – Snookie Fish-Eye – was glaring back at them menacingly. They watched her polish her monocle, blow on it, then place it over her night-black, glass eye. “Really shady.”

“Oh…”

“What?”

“I just thought that was the setup to a joke.”

Never taking her eye off of their Steven, Snookie stood up and bowled a strike – her seventh according to the board, “Penguins are serious business.”

“Must be some kind of surreal humor,” Mom noted quietly. Again, they shared a look of befuddlement that read: “kids.”

Dad mouthed, “Meme?” to which Mom shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll see you after school, pumpkin, and we’ll celebrate your victory.”

 _“You can’t leave,”_ their dream-Steven said. _“The warmup is almost finished! Who’s going to take your place?”_ Thankfully, there was a huff behind them, and they turned to find the best bowler in Delmarva. _“Oh, Lion, perfect timing! Can you fill in for Conniedad?_ ”

Lion’s mane lit up, releasing a bowling ball sized, rose quartz geode. He caught it as he stood to his feet, and in a booming voice he said, _“You can count on me.”_

The penguins eyed the predator warily.

“Oh, good,” they said aloud.

“You’ll do fine,” Dad said. “I’m sure of it.”

He grabbed his supply bag with one hand, hugged them with the other, and after a quick peck on the side of their head, he was gone.

They sat in awe as he left, _Mr. Dadheswaran hugged me! He kissed me!_ They held a hand to their cheek. _Wow…_

As they let the serenity of the moment wash over them, they noticed that Stevendad was giving a live concert down the lane, with Garnet on the keytar. At least, that was their cover. In reality, they were there to provide additional muscle should it prove necessary. However, with Lion’s timely arrival, Stevonnie doubted that their interference would be necessary.

Taken by the music, Snookie’s teammate – Fat Archibald – strutted up to the alley and started tap dancing along the fowl line, which served to mark the beginning of the considerably shorter, avian-restricted lanes.

As they watched him dance, their mind grew hazy, and without their notice, the scene faded from their awareness.

“Bye dad!”

Mom studied them worriedly. “Honey, are you _sure_ you’re OK? He left almost a minute ago.”

“Really?” Mom nodded, moving to their side. “I was just thinking about… Well, I don’t remember.”

She took their pulse and temperature, checked the dilation of their eyes, and surveyed their head for contusions but couldn’t find anything wrong with them. “Physically, you seem fine, but if you feel strange at school, don’t hesitate to call me, OK?”

They nodded enthusiastically, kicking their legs. They still couldn’t believe they were about to leave for _school_ , where they could ride the bus and play dodgeball and finally meet all of their own friends and learn all sorts of cool things from their super-nice teachers! It was almost overwhelming, so much so that they immediately hopped out of their chair and ran to the coatrack to retrieve their backpack.

They thought about leaving at that very moment, but they still felt a little hungry, but also quite full? It was a strange sensation. But they decided to err on the side of caution and returned to the table, not even taking the time to sit as they scarfed down the remaining eggs and toast. Yet it did nothing to sate their hunger. They supposed they would just have to deal with it. They didn’t feel much like eating anyway.

So with breakfast finished, they turned to say goodbye, but upon realizing what that meant, they very much wanted to stay. They knew they couldn’t, for they had two very important days ahead of them, so instead, they dashed forward and hugged Mom around the waist, “Bye mom.” They looked up, eyes gleaming with the promise of tears, “I’ll miss you!”

“I’ll miss you too honey, but I’ll see you after school.” She paused, then cleared her throat, “This isn’t a, uhh, you know.”

“I know what?” they sweetly asked.

“Alright, mom’s stepping out for a moment.”

“She is?”

“Yes, you’re speaking to _doctor_ mom now.”

A pit of unease welled up from deep within them, but they ignored it: doctor mom seemed really trustworthy and professional! What did they have to worry about? “Hi Dr. Momheswaran!”

“Hello, Connie. Please. Step into my office.” She gestured to their recently vacated chair and knelt beside them.

Connie? Was that who they were? Yes, yes of course it was. Right?

For some reason, both of their heads felt really fuzzy. They tried to figure out why that might be, but they’d never felt like this before. They frowned, biting their lip as they struggled to think clearly.

“I just need you to answer a few, routine questions.” They nodded. “Now, this morning you presented complaints of a headache, correct?” She didn’t wait for confirmation, “And I have here that you were administered a standard dose of acetylsalicylic acid. Do your symptoms still persist?”

“Nope. I feel great!”

“That’s good. That’s good… Do you have any other symptoms?”

“Like what?”

“Nothing major. Something like muscle aches or mood swings, abdominal cramps, sudden…” she looked at their plate, “cravings…”

_Is she implying what I think she’s implying?_

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. Remember: Dr. Mom. But this is very important because if you were off your cycle, it might imply a serious hormone imbalance.”

 _Nope_ , they thought. They were not about to talk about _this_ with _her._ “Umm. I’ve got to go.”

“Not so fast young lady.”

They bristled at that, as they were neither young nor a lady, “Moooom. I’m fine! I’m gonna miss the bus!”

“Alright,” she sighed, clearly unconvinced. “It’s probably nothing anyway, but I expect you to call me during your lunch break. OK?”

“Yes ma’am,” they said all too eagerly.

She walked with them to the front door, stepping quickly to keep up. “Have a nice day, sweetie.”

“I will!”

“And good luck on your midterm.”

“Thanks, but that imposter stands no chance under the might of our combined power!”

She smiled and waved as they skipped away before returning inside to prepare for work.

Stevonnie made their way to the end of the street, rocking in place by the stop sign that marked the entrance to their subdivision.

They shivered under the whispers of early November air, _So this is what cold feels like!_ Their Steven shifted in bed, pulling their blankets tightly around their body, _Yep, I **definitely** should have grabbed a jacket._

They considered returning to the house to grab one, but the bus was along shortly, and they quickly bounded up the steps. Connie’s neighborhood, near the outskirts of the district, was the first stop along the route, so they had their pick of seats, but it also meant they had no one to talk to.

But that was impossible, for they were never alone. Except that…

Something was missing. Something very important. They just didn’t know what. They felt like it should be obvious, but the thoughts just slipped away like tiny, oiled marbles between the unwieldy fingers of their split cognition.

Their Connie starting whistling to themself. It was a familiar tune, one that they were used to experiencing at all times: when they focused, they could always hear it clearly, and even when they didn’t, it harmonized throughout their very being. The fact that it was now silent left them feeling deeply unsettled and empty.

But that was OK! They could still remember how it went, and they were on _the bus to school!_ They grinned even as they hugged their knees. They’d never been to school before, and they had the feeling this would be quite the adventure.


	4. Chapter 4

The bus, with its six passengers, pulled up next to the front office approximately 15 minutes before homeroom. A part of Stevonnie mused that it was wasteful to run a bus for so few people. Perhaps if The Administration consolidated routes, the English department could afford printing paper. On the other hand, another part of them, realizing that it was much too cold to fly, was merely thankful for the timely ride.

They stood in the aisle as the bus came to a stop, letting their inertia carry them to the front steps. They bounced impatiently as the driver mumbled in admonishment and skipped down the stairs as soon as the doors started to slide apart.

As they stepped off the bus, they glanced around in awe. The building before them was huge: three stories tall and a quarter mile end-to-end. It looked like it could handle at least 1,565 students, which, they recalled with surprise, was precisely the number the principal had stated in the start-of-term address. What a coincidence.

Traces of snow and ice lined the shadowed sidewalks and stubbornly resisted the morning sun from cubbied window sills, but what stalled their attention was the design of the building itself.

They’d never noticed before - and of course they hadn’t because they’d never been here before, but even on the times they had, they had never paused to consider it - how impressively the structure was fortified. Long, slanted, concrete walls led to a roof covered in repeating, pointed metal domes. Sturdy, thick windows broke up the bumpy expanse of bland grey, affording slight glances into the colorful rooms beyond. It looked as though the architects had designed it anticipating a siege from a hostile, occupying army.

But of course they hadn’t. That would be silly.

An exasperated sigh drew their attention to the steps they had just barely vacated. They felt a hand on their shoulder push them aside, as a disgruntled bus-mate shoved past, grumbling, “Move it, freshy.”

The person-pusher was a senior well known to both them and the school, and not for the best reasons. She was strongly built and nearly two feet taller than them, which, considering how tall they themself were, must make her a giant.

Ordinarily, they would ignore this slight, press onward to class, and brood on the encounter for the rest of the week, but that didn’t stop them today, as they immediately and confidently cried, “Hey! Don’t treat her like that!”

The woman - Melony, they recalled - paused and turned toward them in confusion, “Don’t treat who like that?”

They frowned. Who  _ had _ they been talking about? Other than themself, they had no idea who they might have meant. It had seemed really important a moment ago, too. But it didn’t matter because, “You shouldn’t treat anyone like that!”

“I guess,” she replied, bemused, “but you  _ were  _ blocking the door.”

Only then did they notice the procession of busmates hurrying by in their best attempt to film the confrontation from a safe distance. "Err, sorry, I shouldn’t have been standing there. But if you needed to get by, you should have just said, ‘Excuse me.’”

The words left them feeling uneasy, even though Stevonnie knew they were justified: they shouldn’t be antagonizing an upperclasswoman like this! And as the silence dragged on, their regret kept building, until they started considering the shortest and most inconspicuous paths to their locker.

“You’re right,” she eventually replied, much to their surprise. “I’m just having a rough morning. Sorry,” she added in an embarrassed shuffle. Without waiting another moment, she turned and left for class.

“I hope you feel better!” Stevonnie cried after her. “See?” they, out of habit, asked no one in particular, “Everything worked out fine.”

They nodded because they were right, and as they rushed inside, they couldn’t help feeling a little silly for having been intimidated. They were a highly trained, half-alien superhero, after all. And they were sure Melony was actually a really nice person. They just hadn’t met her before.

Except, of course, for all the times they had, but those didn’t count. This was obviously different… for some reason.

They quickly made their way to their locker, stopping only occasionally to admire the school’s design and a little more frequently to marvel at the throng of people going about their business.

After only a brief deliberation, Stevonnie remembered how to open their locker and confidently input the combination: 08-15-03. “Hey!” they wondered aloud, “That’s my birthday!” The thought made them really happy for some reason, though they couldn’t pin down exactly why their stomach suddenly felt fluttery.  _ Not that I need a reason to be happy _ , they thought. Existing was reason enough. Even if it was, at times, bizarre.

Only after storing their belongings in their locker – they wouldn’t need anything until after gym – did they realize they had a problem: it was too small for their cheeseburger backpack!

Backpacks weren’t allowed in class, and Stevonnie was pretty sure gem relics weren’t either. If they carried them around, they might get in trouble, but what were they supposed to do with their Mission Stuff until Mission Time? If only there was a way to combine two distinct things into a single thing. It’d be a lot easier if they could, everything would be. Take two things, make a better thing, put it in the locker. Boom. Done. Easy.

They shut the locker with a sigh. They would just have to figure this out after… also-them woke up.

Stevonnie started to head for their homeroom, but they couldn’t remember how to get there. Suddenly lightheaded, they leaned against the lockers for support, their thoughts muddled and thick. They felt like someone had taken a pillow and pressed it into their face, shoving the stuffing through their mouth and nose. It filled their mind, covering everything in a blanket of fuzzy pressure. And as they stood in the hallway, perplexed as to how to find their homeroom, they were starting to realize that there wasn’t any air.

Gasping, Stevonnie collapsed to their knees. It was as if they’d stumbled into Lars and Lion’s pocket dimension: no matter how many breaths they took in, they were never satisfied.

The nearby students were starting to give them strange looks, some even crossing to the other side of the hall as they passed by. The sudden attention only furthered their discomfort, but that feeling relaxed at the realization that no one else was being affected.

_ It must be a localized phenomenon! _

Using the lockers for support, they crawled on their knees across the floor, trying to escape whatever magical force had stolen the air away. They could feel the current of their breath along their forearm as they wheezed their way down the hall, which clearly meant there  _ was  _ air to breathe. Why, then, were they suffocating? They had no idea. They just knew they had to move.

They only made it a few feet further before collapsing on the ground, slumped with their back to the wall. Across from them stood a student shifting awkwardly, clearly needing to access to the locker above them, but he could wait for them to… die? unfuse? Well, something. It wouldn’t take long.

They felt weak, and not just from oxygen deprivation. Even before that, ever since waking up in fact, they’d felt out of place, as if they were missing some core aspect of their being. There was something, wasn’t there? Something important that gave them strength and purpose. They couldn’t feel it now, and without that  _ thing _ to keep them together, well, it was just too hard. Plus, shambling across the cold, tile floor was really hurting their knees.

As they languished away one the floor, a pair of friendly classmates approached them. The two were auburn haired, gangly, and nearly identical. Rumor had it that the only way to distinguish between the Marx twins was that Mark had an extra freckle, on his nose. Or was that Marc?

The two stood over them, looking down with no small amount of concern. “You OK, Connie?” The frecklier one asked.

“Stay back,” they rasped. “No… air… here…”

“No air?” Mark asked bemusedly.

“Wouldn’t that induce a vacuum?” his twin replied.

_ Well, obviously, if it were  _ **_mundane_ ** , Stevonnie thought. Honestly, it was as if the pair had no experience with supernatural anomalies. “It’s… a magic… thing.”

The brothers shared sly grins. “Oh, I’m sure it is,” Mark said. Or was that Marc? It was hard to tell and not a particularly helpful line of consideration at the moment.

His brother added, “We never would have taken you for the adventurous type.”

“Not that we haven’t dabbled ourselves.”

“Never at school-”

“- of course not-”

“- you might want to seek help for that-”

“- Probably wise, but first-”

“You should see the nurse,” they concluded together.

Marc – Mark? – stepped forward to help them up, but Stevonnie shied away. “Stay back!” they protested weakly. “It’s not safe!”

But he kept reaching forward, “And that’s why you should come with us.”

At that moment, a burst of pink energy erupted from the floor, walling the boy out before enveloping them completely.

Stevonnie yelped in surprise, covering their face in their arms, “Ahh! It’s got me!”

They rolled around on their back, flailing their feet and arms in order to fight off whatever incorporeal monstrosity had ensnared them. Immediately, there was another flash, and they were encased again.

It took them several moments of such panicking to realize that everything was fine.

They sat up from the floor, and they sat up in their bed too, under the protection of their bubble. So relieved were they to be safe that they didn’t even notice they were breathing normally again.

“Well that was weird,” they said as they let the bubbles surrounding them-and-also-them lower.

They brushed the dirt off of their pajamas and dress – they really did like that color; they shouldn’t let it get dirty – before taking their pillow and fluffing it. Their face was well imprinted into its surface, outlined in snot spots and saliva stains from where they had slept against it, face-first.

“Eww, gross!” they laughed, flipping it over. They set it down, cuddled up against it, and closed their eyes. They knew they weren’t supposed to sleep during school, but they were just so tired…

“OK, I’ll do this,” they said, yawning, “And I’ll take our nap // I’ll take our class.” This multitasking thing was  _ great _ . Why hadn’t they tried this before?

They stood up and stretched, finding themself trapped inside yet another bubble. They blinked and opened their other eyes, but it was still there, fully enclosing them. “Wait… I thought we told you to lower.” They smirked as it flickered away, “Silly bubble.”

They took a few, confident steps forward before encountering something unpleasantly sharp. “Ouch! A pencil?! Who leaves a  _ pencil _ lying in the- Actually, that’s pretty normal.”

But as they looked around, they realized the situation was anything but normal. They hall around them was utterly vacant, save for the mounds of discarded papers and textbooks carpeting the floor. It was as if everyone in the hall had suddenly evaporated, leaving behind their school supplies as the only evidence they had existed at all.

“Where’d everybody go?”

Stevonnie stepped carefully across the tile floor, careful not to tread on the hard-earned proof of someone’s study, and made their way to class.

As they went, they skirted several, rolled up posters for the science fair, closed dozens of half-open lockers, and bypassed several backpacks lying ignominiously on the floor. At the foot of the stairs lay a pile of debris, which, they suspected, had rained down from above, that they had to leap over in order to proceed.

Everything was so quiet. Utter silence claimed the abandoned halls. They didn’t like that; they  _ really  _ didn’t like that. They weren’t a quiet being; they were a conversation manifest. And while not all conversations were noisy, they at least had an audience, had direction. They’d never felt so alone; even on the jungle moon they’d had… themselves? They hummed their Song in rebellion. It came out nervous and uncertain, but they made it to their room soon enough.

As if by some cosmic joke, the universe chose that precise moment to break the silence with a cascade of tonal chimes. They jumped back from the door to their homeroom and reached for the sword they didn’t have. They sighed, shaking their head and wishing that things would start making sense again soon.

“You’re late,” Mrs. Mendenhall said.  But she didn’t seem angry; she sounded almost curious. She and the rest of the class had been watching the door, as if waiting for them to appear.

“Impossible,” they replied, sweeping their hair over their shoulder. “I’m never late.”

“You are today.”

“I’ve never been late to anything in my life!” they protested, before muttering, “Weren’t we late to training just last week?  _ No, _ I came straight from school.” That was true. They remembered that for sure, but if  _ they _ hadn’t been late, then who-

“Either you or I must have been born yesterday.”

“I turn two next month, thank you very much.”

The class laughed. They actually  _ laughed _ . That was new, and they weren’t sure how they felt about it.

“To the point. I heard tale of an amorphous, pale-pink terror in the hallway. Since you’re standing before us, I assume you dealt with it?”

“Oh that? That was-” They stopped themself suddenly, realizing it was distinctly in their interest to – not lie, per se, but to – play it down a little. Their tardiness wouldn’t be excused if it wasn’t a “real” Gem Emergency, after all. And they had a spotless record stretching across half of their entire existence, or maybe a bit less than that since they were a little younger than themself. “That was no problem.”

“I don’t know how it got past our countermeasures, but thank you. Your tardiness, for that  _ is  _ the reality of your situation, is excused. Now, please, take your seat while I inform the principal.”

As they did so, a number of students slipped back into the hall to retrieve their belongings.

Stevonnie slumped in their chair with a sigh, rubbing their eyes with the heel of their palms. The headsache from that morning was already starting to return, and it wasn’t even first period yet.


End file.
